


now is just the beginning and we'll figure it out somehow

by notthebigspoon



Series: After the Rain [9]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You sure about this?”</p><p>	“... it's my son, Whiteside. Of course I'm fucking sure.”</p><p>Title taken from Masquerade by Nicki Minaj.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now is just the beginning and we'll figure it out somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Crimsonkitty asked if I knew Sanchez had a son. I in fact did not know, because google told me nothing, but she was kind enough to share her knowledge with me. And y'know me... of course I gotta fic daddy!Sanchez.

“You sure about this?”

“... it's my son, Whiteside. Of course I'm fucking sure.”

“Didn't mean it like that and you know it. Are you sure he's going to come to you? Are you sure you'll be able to get custody?”

“He hates her new husband and the guy is a total ass to him. Christian hates him. He wants to be here, he wants to be with me and you know I've never wanted anything else but for him to be here with me.” Jonathan says it desperately, like maybe he has to convince Eli, as if Eli would ever need convincing. He loves Jonathan and he loves Christian. He'd say and do whatever it took to make them happy.

“When's the hearing?”

“Tomorrow. Eight in the morning. Talked to the management, I've got the week, not that it matters since I'm on the DL anyway.” Jonathan answers. This time, he sounds anxious. “I just... what happens if I don't get him? That guy doesn't even like kids, he's making Christian miserable. And if she won't do anything to stop it-”

“Stop. Baby, you gotta stop that. Stop working yourself up. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine. No matter what happens... it's gonna be okay.”

Except Eli doesn't know that it will okay. What he does know that if Jonathan doesn't win, if Christian has to go back to his mother and that worthless piece of shit she's married to, his husband is going to break inside.

He worries through the game, and he's glad he's not up because there's no way he would have been able to shut it off, to compartmentalize and focus on the game in front of him. He chews on his lip until it bleeds and he paces the dugout, constantly moving between the railing and the benches. He doesn't stop moving until Christian plants a hand on his shoulder, pushing him and telling him to sit the fuck down before he wears a hole to China in the floor.

Eli flashes him a death glare but it has no effect. He spends the rest of the game staring at his his knees and he doesn't care as much as he should when they win. Instead of celebrating, though, he just ducks hugs and heads straight back to his apartment to wear a path onto the floor there. He tries calling Jonathan when he gets home but it goes straight to voicemail. All he says is, “It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine. I love you.”

He wishes that he felt as certain as he sounds.

***

For the next two days, all he gets is voicemail. Jonathan doesn't pick up, doesn't call him back, doesn't text him back. Eli's stomach is somewhere in his shoes. Because all this can possibly mean is that Jonathan lost. He doesn't get to bring Christian home with him. 

And god knows where he is or what he's doing. This is a million times worse than being traded ever will be and they all know what happened to Jonathan after that. This time, though, Eli is probably going to have to consider buying stock in Jack Daniels as opposed to Barqs. 

By day three he's climbing walls, ready to say fuck it and ditch the team, get on a plane and comb the country until he finds his husband. He's an inch away from getting on his feet and storming out of the clubhouse when his phone rings. He can glimpse the screen where it's sitting in his locker. Jonathan and the hell cat, lighting up the screen with cheesy grins. 

He all but knocks Gillaspie over lunging at the locker. Gillaspie lands on his ass, pouting. Pill just pats him on the head. Eli manages to gasp an apology before thumping the answer button, phone up against his ear, “Hey, hi, hey. Are you okay? Is everything okay, what happened? How did it go?”

“Papi's sleeping. Gramma Whiteside said I should call you.”

Eli will, in the future deny that he choked down a sob when he heard that voice. He grabs a fistful of his jersey and moves past his teammates as quickly as he can, everyone politely looking the other way and pretending that they didn't hear him. He finds the quietest corner he can and sits on a couch, glaring at Gillaspie's anxious, puppy eyed face peeking around the corner.

“Hey kiddo. I missed you. Where you at?”

“Missed you too, Uncle Eli. We're at Gramma's house. Papi said Gramma wanted to see us before we went to Colorado.”

“Good, I'm glad. Bet she's happy to see you.” Eli manages, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes and smiling to himself. “I know your papi's sleeping but wake him up, I need to talk to him. Okay? I love you.”

Christian chirps the sentiment in turn and there's muffled noises. Feet thumping and an oof that says he probably ran into something. A rustling and a groan, quiet voices. The phone crackles and it's quiet for a minute, Eli's worried that the call has dropped. But then Jonathan's voice, low and throaty and rough with sleep, comes through the line.

“'Lo?”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Yeah, I thought you might be mad at me.”

“A little. You scared the hell out of me Johnny. I didn't know how things had went, I didn't know where you were or if you were okay, you didn't return my messages.” Eli mutters. He wishes he could be angry but he just can't be. He's too relieved, too happy. “You went to mom's house?”

“She called me a few hours after the hearing. She may have had to hear me cry. I was relieved and overloaded, I couldn't help it.” Jonathan says, and he sounds uncomfortable. “Anyway, since I had the time she told me to stop by. Christian was thrilled. Gramma Whiteside means cookies. Lots and lots of cookies.”

Eli smiles, rubbing his face. “I'm glad. I can't believe it.”

“You think I can? My lawyer was shaking my arm and telling me we did it and all I could do was stare at the judge. I thought I was dreaming, I kept waiting for him to change his mind or for that giant clown I have nightmares about to come bursting out of a door.” Jonathan says, voice weak. “I... the past three nights, I keep waking up. I go and I look at him, watch him sleep. I can't believe he's here. I can't believe they'd trust me with him.”

“You're messed up. He's your son. No one loves him more.”

“I know.”

“He's happy about it?”

“Thrilled. He really was unhappy there.”

“What's your other son going to say?” Eli asks, teasing. He feels like he's walking on air.

“Mercutio will live. Christian's excited. He's always wanted a pet.”

Eli makes a happy noise and for a while they just sit, listening to eachother breathe. Eli doesn't really comprehend it. Like Jonathan, it doesn't seem real yet. It'll probably hit him later. He hears a rustle and blinks at Gillaspie, nodding when the kid tells him it's time for BP.

“Hey, baby, I gotta go. Business calls.”

“Okay. We'll see you in Reno, okay?”

“Okay. Fuck, yes, okay. I love you. Bye.”

“Love you too papi.”

Eli grins at his phone when he hears the dead air and he knows there's a spring in his step as he returns to his locker and puts his phone away. He falls into step with Burriss and he knows he's grinning like a madman. Burriss wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him.

“Good news from loverboy?”

“Got custody of his son. They're visiting Mama then they're coming to Reno while Johnny's still got some days off.”

“No shit? Awesome. Happy for him.”

“Me too.” Eli answers fervently. “Me too.”


End file.
